He knows what it's about the second it's said and he sighs, hand going to the bite almost instinctively. It had been stupid, he knows that, but in the moment it had felt perfect, like exactly what he needed to do.

He doesn't have a death wish. But it's occurred to him to wonder whether there's really a difference between a death wish and a pathological inability to be afraid of anything. The end result might be the same.

Fear, he knows, does serve a function.

"I'm okay. It barely got me." Got him because he let it, because he practically lured it in before he put the blade in its neck and took off its head.

"It wasn't one of the ones turned me. It was the same as Spike."